


Dream A Little Dream of Me-Reddie

by Jack_Valentine_666



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: 2017 IT, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Aromantic Asexual Mike Hanlon, Asexual Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh in a band, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Child Abuse, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Just really gay, M/M, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Pansexual Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak are soulmates, Richie Tozier in a Band, Richie Tozier is an Orphan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-09 16:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20997800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_Valentine_666/pseuds/Jack_Valentine_666
Summary: Scientists say that you don't dream about someone you've never seen before because the human mind can't make up a the face of a person that doesn't exist. So why does Richie Tozier see the same boy in his dreams when they've never met? Why has he memorized every detail of the boys' face, from the freckles that litter his skin to the way his brown doe eyes look like pools of amber when the sun shines on them? Why does he feel like he's never alone? Why does he get sudden emotions for no reason? Why is he hurt unexpectantly and why does he sometimes see another place than the one he's at?A/N: This is like a soulmate AU, I got the inspiration from the movie In Your Eyes which is just a beautiful movie in itself. Other than the fact that I used seeing/hearing/touching what your soulmate sees/hears/touches this story is 100% my own.





	Dream A Little Dream of Me-Reddie

I don't know when it started but the earliest memory that I have of acknowledging it was when I was five-years-old. When I was still innocent and believed that everything was happy and the world was fair. But then again, you can't spell believe without the word lie. 

~"WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?" Mommy shouts angrily, her face red from screaming. She throws her empty bottle of beer at the wall above my head, making it shatter into a million pieces. A few shards getting into my curly hair. I'm huddled against the blue wallpaper, my scraped-up knees drawn to my chest. Tears roll down my tear-stained face as I clutch my bleeding palm to my chest. I was running around the kitchen to make mommy's diner when I bumped into the shelf making a vase fall and break that was a wedding present for her and daddy. I tried picking up the pieces but I cut my hand when mommy barged in a started screaming.

"I-I'm s-sorry m-mommy." I sob loudly.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She screams as she picks up a wooden chair and beats it against the wall. "YOU STUPID FUCK! YOU'RE THE REASON HE LEFT!" I close my eyes as the chair breaks and splinters. My legs are cut from the flying debris, my hands shake violently like they always do when mommy's mad and has had one too many beers. "HE LEFT BECAUSE YOU NEVER LEARNED TO SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH YOU STUPID FUCKING FAGGOT!" I flinch at the word even though I don't know what it means. Mommy always screams it at me, along with a lot of the other boys my age. They scream it at me as they punch me and kick me. Sometimes there are multiple boys hitting me, other times it's only one. "HE LEFT BECAUSE HE COULDN'T TAKE CARE OF A FREAK LIKE YOU! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" She cries out in anguish, her words slurring together.

When she's done destroying the chair she huffs, her eyes wide with rage. Her cold eyes land on me and she starts to walk towards me. Fear courses through me and I begin to sob harder. I try to back up more but I'm already against the wall. I scramble to get up and run away but she grabs my leg, slamming me back down to the ground. My face hit's the floor, chipping one of my teeth. She flips me over onto my back and straddles my waist.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please momm-" I beg but she draws back her fist and punches me in the mouth. My teeth cutting my lip open.

"DON'T. FUCKING. CALL. ME. THAT." She says in between punches. She hits me in the face repeatedly and wraps her rage-filled hands around my small throat. When I'm almost unconscious but utterly immobile she stops and stands up. With hazy eyes, I see her light up a cigarette. She puffs on it, filling the air with a pungent smell. With lazy steps, she walks back up to me and squats down to my level. She takes my left arm with a vice-like grip that'll leave bruises later on. She takes the death stick from her lips and presses the tip against my skin. White-hot pain vibrates through my body with a buzz synced up to the sound of my flesh sizzling. I try to scream but she covers my mouth with her hand. "Honestly do you ever fucking shut up?" She growls. I whimper as she removes the cigarette from my skin but a muffled scream escapes my lips as she presses it once again on my skin. This process repeats over and over again until I pass out from the pain.

I wake up in darkness. My eyes are open but all I see is black. The air is thin, suffocating. There’s no sound, just deafening silence. I stretch out my sore libs but I am met with smooth walls. I can’t extend my legs or arms and my knees are folded into my chest. I sit up in a panic and reach out. My tiny hands run across the surface of the walls, my fingers running over the small bumps in the paint. My breathing increases, my little heart pounds against my ribs. Standing up I continue feeling around, my hand glides over something cold and round. 

Realization dawns on me like a drop on a rollercoaster. I hesitantly reach out and twist the doorknob. It gives slightly but halts none the less. Tears spring from my brown eyes, coating my cheeks with salty liquid. I twist the doorknob again but the same thing occurs. I knock on the door, frantically but quite at the same time.  
“Mommy?” I whisper into the darkness, no response. “Mommy?” I knock harder. Again, no response. I knock harder and harder until my hands are bleeding and my throat is sore from screaming. I only slump against the wall when my voice stops working and my legs are shaking from standing on them for hours. I curl in on myself, drawing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

Warm hands squeeze my upper arms gently, running their tiny thumbs across my bruised skin covered in goosebumps. I gasp at the sudden contact but, my eyes widen when I look up and see no one there. The hands travel up my arms and cup my cheeks. I feel someone wipe my tears away and I can’t help but lean into the non-existent touch. My brown eyes flutter closed and my breathing slows.

“I’m here.” A soft voice whispers into the silence. I would be terrified if it wasn’t so reassuring.“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” ~ 

But the voice was wrong, I wasn’t going to be okay. It wouldn’t be until I was nine that I was let out of the closet. My eyes were never the same. 

++++

Wind ruffles through my hair like silky fingers and slams against my body, trying to push me off of the rusty blue roof of the slide. The sky is painted in dark grey clouds but the sunlight shining through them is blinding. I wrap my jean jacket around my body to try and stop the continuous assault from the wind. 

I stare up at the sky even though there’s nothing to see except for the black spots in my vision. There’s something about grey that mesmerizes me, makes me feel calm. Numb. Thoughts and emotions just fly by me like a high-way, they never linger. Just float away like a falling leaf in the wind. 

“Your kneck is gonna get stiff if you keep doing that.” Beverly’s voice sounds from down below. I’m so relaxed that I don’t even flinch at her sudden appearance. 

“That’s what he said,” I say with a smirk, not really putting much effort into the joke. She scoffs but climbs onto the elevated platform anyways. When she stands in front of the slide she raises an eyebrow at me.

“Not gonna help a lady up?” She asks playfully. I smirk down at her, affection flooding my eyes. I push my damned coke bottle glasses up my nose and lick my lips.

“You ain’t no lady Marsh,” I say in a stereotypical New Yorker accent. She laughs in disbelief and grabs my ankle. Almost pulling me off of the tower. I squeak loudly, in a totally manly way. “I knew you wanted me but ya don’t have to be so obsessive.”

“Oh please.” She defends letting go of my ankle with a roll of her eyes. I sigh and hop down, causing the platform to shake. I get down on my hands and knees. 

“What the hell are you doing?” She laughs. She kicks my thigh gently. I sigh and lick my lips again. 

“I don’t think you’d be comfortable with my face right next to your ass if you used my hands to step on.” 

“Aww, you might actually be a gentlemen Richie Tozier.” She ruffles my hair making me roll my eyes. 

“Shut up. And hurry ‘cuz this position feels degrading.” 

“I always suspected it would be this way.” She says, making me laugh. She kicks off all of the dirt on her shoes before stepping on my back. When I feel her weight gone I stand up and brush off my jeans. I hop back on the roof, my long legs hanging off, and I rest my arm behind my head. Giving my kneck a break. I feel Bev lace her fingers in mine and I flinch at the contact.

“You know how much I love you right?” She asks. Without looking at her I answer her question.

“No Marsh, I really don’t,” I admit honestly. I squeeze her had thrice, letting her know I love her too. Looking down at our hands breafily I notice her white seashell bracelet, making a memory of when I was 12 flood my head. 

~The soft pitter-patter of the blades in the fan is the only sound in the room. Sweat coats my palms, my fingers shake and I ounce my knee up and down in anticipation. I breathe deeply through my nose and gaze at the painting of the sea, white seashells decorating the sandy beach. 

A soft knock comes from the office door and a second later Ms. Rebecca comes in. A big smile painted on her round cheeks and her pink lipstick smudged on her big white teeth. I’ve always thought her smile reminded me of a horse, not in a mean way but I can’t help but make the comparison. Her chubby fingers hold a manilla folder and I notice her nails are painted the same shade of pink that is her lipstick. A couple in their late 30’s follows her in with matching looks of anxiety and excitement. 

“Richard, this is Juliette and Peter. They’ve come to meet you.” She informs me. I can tell she’s about to burst with happiness which can only mean one thing: They want to adopt me.

I stand up, my big clothes hanging off of my small frame. I wipe my palms on my jeans before walking up to them. I push my hair behind my ear and adjust my oversized glasses. 

“Hello, I’m Richie,” I say with a big smile as I reach my hand out to shake theirs. 

“I’m Peter, it’s nice to meet you, Richie,” Peter says with an equally large smile. “You’ve got a firm handshake there.” He laughs. 

“Thank you,” I reply. I turn to Juliette and she takes my hand in hers gently.

“Oh, you are so adorable.” She giggles. “And I’m Juliette by the way, I’m so happy that we have met.”

“Me too ma’am.” I smile politely. She puts a hand over her heart and looks fondly at me. ~

The meeting was going well until my vision began to unfocus.

~I try to blink away the fuzziness in my eyes but it doesn’t go away. My head feels dizzy like I’m falling. Then I feel the impact of asphalt against my back. The air in my lungs is forced out and I gasp trying to chase it. I feel strong hands on my arms, holding me down and when I look up I’m no longer seeing the lovely couple before me but the sky. The bright sun a deep contrast to the panic setting into me.

I gasp loudly when a boy with a blond mullet stands over me with the evilest expression that I’ve ever seen. His lips are formed into a smile that crinkles his cheeks and shows off his crooked teeth. His smile reminds me of the evil grin the grinch did. There’s no happiness in his eyes, just...evil. 

I feel myself fall out of my chair and back out but I’m still stuck in this hallucination. I’m panting, tears roll down my cheeks. I try to reach for something, anything to help me get free. The boy with the mullet clicks his tongue and shakes his head disapprovingly. 

“You know this isn’t how this works.” He laughs without humor. Shivers of fear course up and down my spine. He bends down over me, straddling mine waists.  
“Henry.” A voice chokes out as the boy above me flips out his knife.

“Shut up faggot.” He barks out making me flinch hard at the well-known word. He takes the fabric of a red polo shirt between his fingers and pushes it up a chest that is not mine. The voice and I scream when the tip of a blade carves into our flesh, all I see is white as I shake violently. Warmblood drips down my stomach and I’m faintly aware that the couple has run out of the room, Ms. Rebecca following them. 

“Henry PLEASE! This isn’t you!” The voice shouts but a hand is clamped over his mouth. 

When that sociopath is finished carving into our skin I snap out of the hallucination, terrified to see blood soaking through my white shirt. I press a shaky hand to the wounds, confused and in pain. My face streaked with tears and red from screaming. 

“You’re okay,” I tell the voice in my head not caring if I sound insane. “I’m here,” I tell it. 

“I’m sorry.” The voice apologizes softly. I’m insane. I think to myself making me laugh pathetically. I’m officially insane. ~

I don’t remember when and how Bev and I got back to the orphanage but we made it in one piece. 

++++

The day began like any other. Sitting on the fire escape, drinking a cup of coffee, and smoking a cigarette with the most important person in my life. She takes the cancer filled death stick from me and puts it between her lips, taking a long drag. The tip lighting up red with fire that looks pale compared to her hair. She takes it away and smoke dances from her lips. I look out onto the horizon, the sun shining around the tall towers of the big city in the distance. 

I take a swig of the cheap black coffee that Suzan buys. The bitter liquid coats my tongue in a warm embrace. I rest my arm on my bent leg. My jeans are torn at the knee, showing off the scabs from one too many falls. My eyes travel to my forearm, the large scar running across it brings back another memory. 

~The bright white lights make it impossible to see the screaming people in front of me but even if I could I wouldn’t be focusing on them. Sweat soaked hair falls into my eyes as I beat mercilessly at the surface of the drums. Every hit sending vibrations through my body. A smile forms on my face even though I’m exhausted.  
Beverly’s voice fills my head as she sings the words I wrote, Declan is on base, and Cory is on guitar. I pause my movements as Cory strums out her guitar solo, lightly tapping the tips of my drums sticks against the surface. 

My vision once again unfocuses but I explain it as dehydration. I feel hands on my back and I fall forward onto a stretch of grass. No no, not again. I think to myself. Not here. I hear laughter over the sound of everything. A mass is applied to my back, making me choke as my air is cut off.

I slam down on the drums with my right arm when I feel it snap in half. I’m instantly snapped out of my hallucination as a scream ripples through my throat. The music cuts off as I cradle my bleeding arm to my chest. I grit my teeth in pain as Bev runs over to me. I get dizzy fast since I’m dehydrated and malnourished, making me pass out.~  
I still don’t know how she carried me to the hospital but if anyone could it would be her.

**Author's Note:**

> If you need someone to talk to please feel free to contact me. Thank you and Have a nice day, week, year, and life.---Jack.💜💜💜


End file.
